


Sick Rick

by FinnW



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Sickness, maybe idk its just cute and short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:11:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinnW/pseuds/FinnW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick gets sick after going on one of his oh-so-dangerous adventures, Morty takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Rick

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for a friend! also pls ignore the overused fandom joke.

The ships shaking hum died down as Rick turned off the ship, stepping out with Morty following behind him. He looked over at his grandson, who was gleaming with pride, and also a bit of blue slime. With a smile on his lips, he pulled the younger boy over to his side.

“We did good today Morty.”

Morty grinned, leaning his head on his grandfather.

“Yeah! We really- we really kicked some alien butt, huh Rick?”

“You know it, Mort - _uurp_ \- Morty!”

Rick ruffled his grandsons hair lovingly, but upon his grandfather making contact with his head, Morty reached up and grabbed the older mans hands.

“Jeez Rick, your hands are really hot! Are- Are you sick?”

Gleeful expression fading from his face, Rick pulled his hands away from Morty, tucking them into his lab coat and rolling his eyes.

“Your grandpa doesn't get sick, Morty.”

“I don't know Rick, I mean your hands are really warm, and now that you mention it you're pretty pale. You should lay down or something!”

“I don't need to _lay down_ Morty. I'm _fine.”_

“I don't think you are Rick. Come on, let's- let's get you into bed.”

“I don't need you to take care of me _Morty_.”

Ignoring his grandfathers slightly aggressive statements, Morty tugged on Rick's hand, leading him out of the garage. Reaching the older mans room, he hustled him onto his cot.

“Lay down Rick, I'm gonna get you some tea.” Morty said as he pulled the blanket over his grandfather.

Rick pouted, taking one of his pillows into his arms and squeezing it up against his chest.

“I'm not sick Morty.”

The younger boy smiled, the sight of Rick clutching his pillow with a defeated look on his face was almost cute. He turned towards the door.

“I'm gonna go get you some tea Rick, stay here an-and try and get better.”

With one last look at Rick before heading to the kitchen, he felt happiness swell in his chest. Rick was really fucking cute sometimes despite the tough I-don't-give-a-fuck status he had built up. Rick always acted like he hated it when Morty tried to care for him, but usually gave in because he secretly loved being pampered, especially by Morty, who was always especially sweet.

Upon reaching the kitchen, Morty set some water to boil and got out the tea. Morty snickered to himself, grabbing a cup that he thought suited rick best, (a white mug with _Foxy Grandpa_ scrolled across it in red font) and placed the tea bag in it. He knew Rick didn't like any sugar in his tea, but honey would probably help him get better. So, placing a spoonful of honey into the mug along with the now hot water, he mixed everything together and brought it back to Rick's room.

The older man still was on his cot hugging the pillow when Morty entered the room again, but this time Rick was laying down, eyes closed. A smile spread across the younger boys face and he traveled to the side of Rick's bed, placing his hand on the older mans arm. Ricks eyes shot open, only to glare at Morty when he realized who was touching him.

“Not sick huh?”

“I'm not sick Morty, just tired.”

“Mm hmm.”

Morty grabbed the weirdly shaped table that sat a few feet from the cot, pulling it closer so it could serve as a place to keep the tea. He set the mug down and looked back at Rick, whose eyes had closed again. Stroking his grandfathers greasy, now sweaty hair, he stood up. Ready to let Rick sleep away his sickness, he walked to the doorway, turning off the lights. Just before he was about to close the door, Rick let out a grunt.

“Stay here Morty.”

“Why Rick?”

“Because I want you to, Mort _-uurp-_ Morty.”

The younger boy wandered over to his grandfather after a few seconds of hesitation, sitting on the edge of the cot. Rick grabbed his hand, pulling on it.

“Lay down Morty.”

Morty did as he was told, turning around so his face was buried in Ricks chest. The older man's arms wrapped around his grandson after throwing the pillow on the foot of the cot. Morty scooted in closer, not wanting to fall off the tiny mattress they both were struggling to stay on. He inhaled the scent of Ricks alcohol and sweat soaked shirt, which was kind of disgusting but he didn't really mind. Rick leaned his head down to kiss the top of Morty's messy hair, holding him tighter as he did.

“You know I love you, right Morty?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Rick smiled, sleepiness overcoming him.

“I love you too.”

 


End file.
